


Ebb and Flow

by orphan_account



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-23
Updated: 2010-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:38:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins introduced Aragorn to the pleasures of the flesh.   Written for the Slashy Valentine 2010 Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ebb and Flow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phytha](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Phytha).



Aragorn sat on a boulder at the edge of a stream, watching the course of the crystal clear water through the rocks. The water's sound filled his ears and his nose was flooded with the smell of warm, wet earth. A short summer storm had caught him unprepared as he escaped from his mother's incessant yammering and the domestic noises of the Last Homely House as he made his way to a secluded part of the valley of Imladris. Needless to say, he had gotten soaked to the bone and now he sat naked waiting for his clothes to dry. Aragorn took advantage of the time alone to relax and just enjoy the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the day.

He closed his eyes and imagined himself as part of the stream, his body gliding over the rocks in a soft, sensual manner. He flowed formless over them, his rough edges softening, wearing away. Both stream and rocks benefited from this ancient dance, the rocks became smoother, beautiful without ostentation and they slowed the swift passage of the stream, affording it the opportunity to become richer, calmer.

Aragorn often thought of the elves of Imladris as the rocks to his swift life. They had provided knowledge and much joy, and now that the time to leave the valley approached, he felt sad and anxious. Huge responsibilities had been laid upon his shoulders and he longed for the time when he was known as Estel and could run amok in the valley causing mischief alongside his foster brothers, terrorizing Glorfindel and Erestor with his childhood pranks.

The thought of his foster brothers made him feel warm and happy. He would miss them the most; their irreverent humor, and their wise words. They were also beautiful, strong, masculine, the ultimate warriors. He often found himself stealing covetous glances at them, at their sweaty torsos after a bout of friendly sparring, at their long, graceful limbs when they bathed together naked in the wild and a deep feeling of lust and longing would rise within his breast.

It was unthinkable for him, a Dunadan, to pursue a relationship with them. They were elves, fey and immortal, and they would probably laugh at his silly pursuit. He was so much younger, both in body and spirit, completely inexperienced, and he would eventually age and die in what for them must seem like the blink of an eye. He also needed to provide Gondor with heirs for the throne and cement an alliance between elves and men.

It was widely hinted that he should start courting Lord Elrond's daughter but he loathed the idea. The lady in question was indeed beautiful, but he was not attracted to her at all. She was also an elf! She would probably laugh at his attempts to pursue a relationship with her as well, although he heard she was quite vain and loved when people likened her to Lúthien. He felt in awe of and transfixed by Arwen's otherworldly beauty, but he felt more compelled to build her a shrine or admire her from afar than to love her in the way he wished to love.

He was no bard, he was a warrior and he needed the brutal physicality of carnal love. He could certainly be tender as his healer abilities proved, but the prospect of conquering and being conquered excited him and the thrill of competition was deeply rooted in his wish to mate. It was not something he associated with members of the opposite sex. The soft, slender body of a woman with all its valleys and peaks did not stir his desire. He craved the paradox of steel-hard muscles under supple, soft skin, of strong jaws and delicate features, in short he craved _them_.

He knew he was deeply in love with both, as disturbing as he knew the prospect would be to the general population. To love Elladan and not love Elrohir was impossible. They were not mirror images of each other, that was a tale they wrought to avoid uncomfortable questions in regards to their intimacy, nor did they share a soul. Elladan was quiet, brooding, and the voice of reason while Elrohir was passionate, earthy and had a sharp wit and tongue. They knew each other as they knew their own bodies, but every day they discovered something new and intriguing about their mate. They disagreed, they debated, they kissed and caressed when they thought he was not looking and the sounds of their passion filled him with longing and made his heart jump. He wanted to grasp at his twin moonbeams and keep them for his own, but they were unattainable and aloof, as all moonbeams are.

He was in the middle of his thoughts when he felt fingers trailing down his back, calloused, strong fingers. He did not want to open his eyes in case he was dreaming, for though he was well acquainted with those fingers they had never ventured on the paths they were on now.

“Open your eyes Estel.”

Aragorn smiled and opened his eyes. The silky baritone belonged to Elrohir. Elladan stood next to his brother, a cocky smile plastered on his lips. Aragorn could distinguish their physical features and not mistake them, but their voices always confused him and they were the only ones who could sneak up on him unnoticed.

He shuddered, their eyes were taking in every single inch of his naked form. He felt inadequate in their presence, coltish, a skinny lad that had just gotten over spots and spoiled sheets. Elrohir extended his hand and helped him off the boulder.

“Practicing being one with nature again?” Elladan asked, smiling.

Aragorn shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He felt very vulnerable being the only one unclothed, but elves were completely comfortable with their bodies and nudity and by extension they thought everybody else was as well. “It helps me clear my mind,” Aragorn lied, his mind having been anything but clear before they arrived.

Elrohir laughed and tried to pass it off as a coughing fit. Elladan smacked Elrohir's stomach with the back of his hand. Aragorn turned and regarded his foster brother with a frown.

“What is so amusing?”

“Well, your mind was not very empty judging by other parts of your anatomy,” Elrohir replied with a cat-that-got-into-the-cream sort of smile.

Aragorn's breath caught and he looked down and saw the vestiges of what had been a mighty erection.

“Oh that,” he said, and flushed to the roots of his hair.

Elladan took pity on poor Aragorn and added with a benevolent smile, “It happens to us all. We are millennia older than you and we still get a stray stiffy from time to time.”

Elrohir laughed at his brother's statement and Aragorn frowned. Elrohir could not help but tease Aragorn as was his wont. “Thinking of our sister again?”

“NO!” Aragorn exclaimed, outraged.

Elladan ignored him and wrinkled his nose, “Eww, that is disturbing,” he teased. “Remember when she went through that no bathing phase?”

Elrohir guffawed and added, “Not even the cat would approach her.”

Aragorn's scowl threatened to split his forehead, but they continued their merciless teasing. “Or was it Glorfindel, the golden warrior?” Elladan asked, tapping his mouth with his index finger.

Elrohir patted Aragorn's shoulder in a gesture of mock solidarity.“I am sorry Estel, but you would need to be reborn in the body of a woman for him to even pay attention, and it would have to be able to shift to many different forms as our golden-maned balrog slayer is one of the most unrepentant philanderers in Middle-earth.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes, everybody knew about Glorfindel's penchant for womanizing. Not even Aragorn's illustrious mother had been able to resist him, only to be replaced by a pretty elleth not even a week later.

“No, I was not thinking of Glorfindel,” he said, unable to repress the heat rising to his neck.

“Hmm.. a male then,” Elladan said while unbuckling his belt. Aragorn blushed at being found out.

Elrohir was hopping from one foot to the other, taking off his boots. He shouted, “Bull's eye!”

“It's so hot and humid, I think I may take a dip,” Elladan said while shedding his leather jerkin. Elrohir followed. “Will you join us?”

Aragorn shrugged. “I am already unclothed and it _is_ hot.” He did not mention that he would take any opportunity to be near them, naked, drinking in their musky, masculine scent, to reserve those memories for later when, during lonely nights, he would climax on his sheets thinking of them.

Elladan was soon naked and he dived into the frigidly cold waters of the stream, elegance and grace embodied. Aragorn's self-consciousness reared its ugly head again for he really did not want them to see his body victim of the effects of cold water, not after they had seen him in all his glory. He was not vain, but he knew he was not without his charms, and one of them was his well endowed male parts. It was among the advantages of his Númenórean blood.

He was about to open his mouth to express his change of mind when he felt a warm body push against him, making him lose his footing, and a hoot of laughter. Aragorn's body hit the frigid water and he felt his balls jump up to his throat from the shock. He sputtered water out of his mouth, pushed his hair out his face, and glared at his foster brother who was going into paroxysms of laughter. “Ackk, you rogue!” he said with a growl and jumped on Elrohir.

They tumbled and growled, disappearing under the surface of the water. Elladan, who was watching with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile, leaped in. He was always up for mischief and fun, and ganging up on Estel was always a riot as he got frustrated and pouted most prettily at being overcome.

His foster brother had grown to be a fine specimen of human flesh, but he was so shy and repressed. It was in part due to his brooding, introverted nature and also as consequence of a most conservative and protective mother. The lad was now beyond his majority and he had known neither men nor women as a man should. Although Elladan knew that his foster brother was not interested in the opposite sex at all. He observed the looks he threw his way and Elrohir's, and it was their names that escaped him on those nights when he thought they were asleep and he worked himself to release.

This unrequited attraction had been an object of discussion among them. They both loved Estel fiercely, but Elladan knew that to get any closer to him would mean irremediable heart break for them. They had helped shape him, taught him and watched with unbridled pride his growth into a fine man. To breach that last barrier to intimacy would make him part of them. Yet the pressures of winning his birthright and station would claim him and they would be sundered. He would have to marry and eventually surrender to the gift of Men, leaving Arda forever, and Elladan's heart would break with his passing.

Elrohir, onthe other hand, would retort that Estel's life was too short and that before they knew it he would be gone from their grasp, submitting to duty before experiencing any happiness. He loved Estel too much to allow him to turn into a harsh man, the kind that have never experienced what is is to love and be loved back in all forms.

Elladan was brought out of his musing by the unexpected brush of a hairy thigh against his member. His brother's thigh was smooth and hairless. He raised an eyebrow at Elrohir who winked back, apparently well aware of the subtly suggestive touches that Estel had been sending their way.

They seized him and in a thrice had him pinned on the shoreline, Elrohir sitting with Estel's upper body on his lap, holding his wrists, while Elladan straddled Estel's lower half.

“Hmm.. what have we got here?” Elladan said in a husky, dangerous voice.

Aragorn's heart was beating in a frantic manner. Had he overstepped his boundaries this time? He really hoped his arousal wouldn't make an appearance now, but Elladan's own member was so dangerously close to his. His hips itched to jerk up and bring his cock in contact with Elladan's, and Elrohir's masculine smell, so close to his face, and the strong arms wrapped around him were making it hard to concentrate.

He decided to take the bull by the horns and be truthful. “I.. I've loved you both for a long time now. I can't help it if my body betrays my feelings.”

Elladan locked eyes with his brother, whose eyes were burning with need and affection, and they reached a tacit agreement. They would love this young, awkward colt and get him used to their touch, tame that indomitable spirit and show him the advantages of patience and restraint. They would cherish him and protect him until his short mortal life was over, and when they felt ready they would follow him.

It was Elrohir who spoke. “What made you think we would return your feelings?” His voice was cold and his expression unreadable. “You should think twice before pressing your affections on other people's mates.”

Aragorn looked powerless and ashamed. He swallowed a dry gulp before answering, “I did not mean to come between you.” His voice cracked. “I'll stay away from you, but please, do not condemn me for a tiny slip of self-control.”

Elrohir's expression softened at his foster brother's distress. “Do you think us beautiful?” he asked, his breath tickling Aragorn's neck.

“Aye, very much so,” Aragorn whispered looking away from Elladan's intense gaze.

Elladan grabbed Aragorn's chin delicately with his strong, long fingers. “Beauty is ephemeral, even for our race. Would you stop loving us if we were maimed beyond recognition?”

Estel's eyes widened, he had heard of Celebrian and how she was horribly disfigured after her ordeal with the orcs. “Of course not,” he whispered. “I love you for who you are, not for what you look like. Happy, proud, compassionate and generous. It has been one of my heart's most cherished desires to emulate you in all senses.”

Elladan lowered his face and brushed his lips against Aragorn's ear. “If you are to be a part of us, it cannot be by half measures. You must surrender completely.” Elrohir tilted his head and watched Estel with an inscrutable expression, waiting for an answer.

Aragorn's eyes traveled from one otherworldly, haunting gaze to the other, then he sighed and closed his eyes. He loved them and he wanted them so much. “I will,” he said earnestly. “I surrender.”

Elrohir's husky chuckle reached his ears and he opened his eyes. Elladan was standing and extending his hand to help him up. Warm, steel gray eyes met a cooler, elven, slate gray pair.

“Come then,” Elladan urged, “and close your eyes.”

Aragorn complied and felt Elladan's hands clasp around his.  He was trembling slightly from anticipation and from the cold air hitting his naked, wet skin. He heard Elrohir rush pass him, his strides fast and deliberate.

“Where is he going?”

“It's a surprise,” was Elladan's response.

“But our clothes?” Aragorn fretted.

“He has already taken them.”

“Am I allowed to open my eyes yet?”

Elladan tugged on his hand. “No,” was the only reply he gave.

Elladan led Aragorn through the forest, only speaking to warn Aragorn about a branch or a rock on his path. After walking for a long time they entered a cave, or so Aragorn thought. He felt a cool draft of air and the sun's warmth was missing from his skin.

Elrohir's echoing voice reached Aragorn, “You took long.”

“I couldn't have Estel stub one of those magnificent hairy toes, so I took the long way,” Elladan said while helping Aragorn make his way deeper into the cave.

Elrohir's almost inaudible steps approached them and he brushed his fingers against Aragorn's brow. “Stop worrying Estel, you will add premature lines to your face.” Aragorn's lips quirked into a small, nervous smile and there was a slight edge of annoyance in his reply. “You dragged me through the forest in naught by my skin. I am bound to feel a little disconcerted.”

Elrohir ignored Estel and hummed softly while he tied a strip of silk around Aragorn's eyes. “I thought I'd be able to open my eyes?" Aragorn's tone was frantic now. “What is this place?”

Elladan's warm breath tickled the side of his face, the sweet smell of his breath enveloped Aragorn's nostrils. “I am certain you said that you'd surrender completely.” He took one of Aragorn's hands and wrapped a thick length of rope around it. Aragorn's heart was racing.

“Yes, I did.”

“I thought you said you trusted us, but if you must know, this is the place where we come to hide from Adar and Erestor when they are trying to marry us off,” Elrohir said in an amused tone, brushing his naked side against Aragorn's. The movement made Aragorn think of a sleek, wild cat, elegant and mischievous.

“I do trust you, but I don't understand the need for the restraints,” he answered. “I am ignorant in the matters of the heart and flesh, but not naive.”

Elladan's warm laughter soothed Aragorn's disquietude. “Trust is a hard commodity to earn, my darling Estel. We would never betray it, but we want you to feel what is to truly, utterly surrender.” Elladan had fastened the rope somewhere to the side and Elrohir was now doing the same to Aragorn's other hand.

Aragorn swallowed hard and shuddered when he felt calloused fingers trace the side of his neck. “Such a beautiful, fiery being,” Elrohir said, and he held his lips just a breath away from Aragorn's who tried desperately to come in contact with them. “Impatient and bold,” Elladan finished from behind, his breath tickling Aragorn's nape. Estel found out that being deprived of sight had its advantages as he could now distinguish them by their smell. Elrohir smelled of sandalwood and sage while Elladan smelled of rosewood and musk.

“You say you will surrender to us, yet your body betrays your words,” Elladan said smoothly. He took Aragorn's earlobe in his lips and suckled lightly. Aragorn felt all the blood in his body rush to his cock and the strained feeling that came with it. He gritted his teeth and suppressed the urge to moan like a wanton maiden.

Elladan was now tracing the hard lines of Aragorn's jaw with a wet, warm tongue while Elrohir grabbed his flanks with strong hands bringing their bodies close, but not close enough as to bring their members together despite Aragorn's efforts to breach the distance. “You have yet to master your impetuous nature,” Elrohir teased.

“I need. . . I need you,” Aragorn whimpered, his only answer growling chuckles and taunting kisses that left him in a frenzied state. This went on for a while as they teased him, touched him, but not where it would bring him release. He discovered strange, sensitive places on his body he had never suspected existed, like the skin inside his elbows or the small of his back. He wanted to weep, the need was so great, but they kept him primed and ready, not giving in to his body's need.

Finally Aragorn stopped seeking and took a deep breath. He wanted to wildly rub himself against them but that would only earn him more chuckles and teasing, so he waited, and hummed with unbounded joy when his patience was rewarded by Elrohir claiming his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. He allowed himself to be led, not rushing to take but waiting to receive patiently. He started relaxing, surrendering, delighting in the feeling of being so thoroughly possessed by a patient, relentless, tongue and warm, soft lips. It was a feeling of blissful freedom, rewarding beyond words.

“He learns at last,” Elladan said in a voice thick with desire. Elrohir's low laughter echoed through the cave and Aragorn felt the strip of silk fall from his eyes.

There were lit torches in the cave and their brightness hurt his eyes, but his discomfort disappeared when his eyes rested on his twin torturers, their cheeks were stained with high color, their bodies glistening with perspiration. Aragorn gasped when his eyes wandered downward; their cocks were swollen, erect, magnificent. Elladan stood in front of Elrohir who was grasping his waistpossessively. Elrohir kissed Elladan's neck and gently pushed him forward towards Aragorn.

Elladan's eyes were boring into Aragorn's who watched, fascinated, as his torturer knelt in front of him and took his cock in his hand. Elladan rubbed a smooth cheek against it and inhaled the musky, enticing scent of Aragorn's groin in a deep breath. Aragorn felt his knees weaken. He had fantasized for something like this to happen to him for so long and he could not believe this raven haired being that he idolized was on his knees, seeking to please him. When Elladan finally took him in his warm, soft mouth he cried out in ecstasy, his head thrown back and his arms flexed tightly, marking the hard knots of his corded muscles.

There was a sea of new sensations to be had, and Aragorn was only aware of his cock in that warm, velvety soft mouth that worked him skillfully, slowing down every time he thought climax was near, until he felt Elrohir's hands spreading his buttocks and an oiled, expert finger touch his entrance. He winced slightly at the invasion, but was soon distracted by Elladan's relentless attack on his member.

Elrohir entered him in a swift, decisive thrust that tore a scream of pleasure and pain from his throat. He had not believed in deities until this day when his prayers were answered, stroked both inside and out and driven to pleasure induced delirium by those who held his heart in their hands. Not a single wandering thought came to torment him and in that moment he was only aware of Elladan and Elrohir, of his mounting need to climax. After a couple of well angled strokes from Elrohir, Aragorn trembled and shouted his orgasm while emptying himself copiously into Elladan's mouth.

They untied him and together they fell in a mass of tangled limbs. After a few awkward moments of dealing with the arrangement of a multiple joining, Elladan was on top of Aragorn, kissing him, sharing the bitter, salty taste of Aragorn's own seed while buried to the hilt in his tight heat. Elrohir was behind Elladan, his hands grasping his twin's slender hips, setting the pace in their wild, passionate coupling. Aragorn did not think he could climax again, as he felt utterly spent, but Elladan's member stroking his pleasure center, the friction of their joined bodies, and Elrohir's frantic pace brought them all to a roaring climax after only a few minutes.

They lay on the ground, Aragorn nested safely between the twins, their limbs sprawled carelessly on top of Aragorn who was falling prey to exhaustion. They smiled indulgently at their newly acquired mate, their mental bond already blossoming as they felt Aragorn's young presence nudge their minds.

Aragorn smiled and sighed, “The rocks to my river,” before falling into a satisfied, deep sleep.

_Seventy Years later_

“Legolas, please make sure Eldarion does not break his neck climbing those trees,” Elladan chided. It was a gorgeous, spring day in Gondor and they were enjoying the morning sun in the palace gardens. Legolas had taken Eldarion, Elessar's young son, for an outing on the wilder side of the gardens. Elladan had objected, but as always he was ignored. He paced for a while before the bench upon which sat his mates: Elessar, High King of the Reunited Kingdoms of Arnor and Gondor, and his twin brother Elrohir.

Elessar grinned. “The boy is not made out of glass.” He patted the space next to him. “Come here and stop fretting.”

Elrohir gave his brother an exasperated roll of the eyes. “Eldarion needs to have a carefree childhood, tôr. His responsibilities will come soon enough.”

“Well, it was very hard to bring him into the world. I don't know why you let them run wild with that uncouth wood elf,” Elladan huffed, but went to take his place next to his mates.

“Are you still going on about that?” Elessar asked with a raised eyebrow. “I assure you, it was as unpleasant a task for me as it would have been for you.” He kissed Elladan's brow which earned him a pout from Elrohir,

“I must cluck and fret like a mother hen to earn your kisses then?” he teased. That earned him a smack on the head from both his elven and human counterparts.

“I still can't believe Arwen agreed to it.” Elladan's tone softened, his gaze resting on the palace where Arwen was having brunch with some of the Gondorian noblewomen.

“Well, she is a Queen and she is able to pursue the uncouth wood elf's affection at her leisure,” Elessar answered, smiling. “Although I am not sure if that wild, fey elf will ever let himself be trapped by her charms.”

Elrohir tittered. “Oh, he likes her, but he won't put up with her tantrums.”

Besides, she is a wonderful sister who loves you both deeply,” Elessar countered. “We are forever indebted to her.”

“Indeed we are,” his mates responded in unison, and Elessar nodded in agreement.

He exhaled happily and added, “But most importantly, I would not be here if it were not for you.” Their hands rested on his lap, entwined each with the other, and Elessar squeezed them warmly in his own, murmuring his favorite endearment for them.

“My rocks.”


End file.
